Blood & Loyalty
by Sode no Shirayuki1411
Summary: Pointless drabble about Herman Greenhill and Gregory Violet set after the current arc. No matter what dangers they face, they'll face them together. Slight m/m.


**Hi everyone!**

 **This is my first Black Butler fic and I'm not even sure why I wrote it or even why I kind of ship this. But I really loved the Weston Collage arc to be honest and I loved these characters so I thought I'd write a bit more about them. This fic is set at the end of the current 'Blood Type' arc or whatever they're calling it, since this manga loves death I'm guessing that at least one of the P4 will be killed or hurt and the manga seems to be implying it will be Violet, this fic follows that assumption. I hope you enjoy.**

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"Ouch," the muttered exclamation, one of surprise more than pain, was so quiet that, if he wasn't constantly paying at least partial attention to the utterer of the complaint, Herman Greenhill probably never would have heard it.

But he did and, looking towards its source, he saw Gregory Violet who was standing in front of the kitchen bench where he had been cutting up apples.

Since they'd taken off together after being expelled from Weston, Greenhill, Violet, Bluewer and Redmond had been learning how to care for themselves. But they'd been the coddled children of nobles all their lives so practical skills, like cooking and cleaning, were not exactly their strong suits and they still made mistakes.

Like right now as Violet quickly set down the knife and the apple and cradled the bloody palm he'd sliced open.

Seeing all that red running down his companion's arm Greenhill's eyes widened and he jumped forward, grabbing Violet's bloody wrist.

"You idiot!" He exclaimed, "you need to be more careful!"

He towed a far too unconcerned Violet over to where he kept his first aid equipment. Studying swordplay and all manner of sports Greenhill had amassed quite the collection of bandages and gauzes and the like and, as he and his teammates were often getting minor and not so minor injuries, knew how to deal with something like a cut hand.

As he took care of the wound Greenhill continued to lecture the other former prefect. "You shouldn't be so reckless with your own health and safety." Images were flashing through his mind's eye; the tiny secret smile Violet would occasionally bestow upon them when something strange or marvellous happened, how privileged he felt that Violet would smile for him, Derrick Arden's blood splattering his cricket bat, the wild look in Violet's eyes as he barred the door to prevent the other bullies from escaping, that smile again as Violet shook his hand after their last cricket match, the horrifying sight of him as he lay unconscious on the floor...

"You could have really badly hurt yourself!" Greenhill scolded. As he finished wrapping the bandage and held the violet-eyed teen's hand between both of his Greenhill realized his own hands were shaking. Somehow this strange, anti-social young artist had become the best part of his word and if anything were to happen to him...

"Do you ever stop to think about what could happen if you keep doing dangerous things?!" He demanded. "Do you ever stop to think about what that would do to _us?!_ We need you and I-"

Violet placed his remaining hand on top of their joined ones, stilling the trembling in Greenhill's. "It's okay," he said quietly, purple eyes flicking up to meet distressed green ones, "I'm okay. It's over."

He wasn't talking about the cut and Greenhill knew it, the blond laughed bitterly, pulling back slightly, though he didn't let go of the other's hand, "is it? I thought it was over after we made our deal with the Devil and had the dead reanimated after I killed Derrick Arden, then those…things tried to kill us, then we were expelled, then we had the fiasco with Blavat and you almost-" he broke off, shuddering at the thought of how close they had, _he_ had, come to losing Violet, "I'm beginning to think it will never be over for us."

Violet raised his uninjured hand to Greenhill's bicep feeling the mark Arden's teeth had left through the thin cloth before tugging him closer and down towards him slightly so he could lean up on his toes and press their foreheads together.

"So what?" He asked, violet eyes taking up most of Greenhill's field of vision. "Even if bad shit keeps happening to us we'll deal with it together; you aren't getting rid of me so easily." Greenhill's eyes widened in surprise at both Violet's actions and at his words. He was honestly surprised that, after his actions and loss of control, the other members of the former P4 hadn't abandoned him for their own sakes even though he knew they were all far too loyal to do that.

"You're _mine,"_ said Violet, "and I'm yours, more so than Redmond and Bluewer and I'm not leaving until you make me and any dumb obstacle -like death or permanent bodily harm- is just going to have to accept that."

Despite the thundering of his heart at those words, at Violet calling himself _his,_ Greenhill had to smile, he relaxed, letting his forehead rest against the smaller male's, shutting his eyes and basking in the warmth and solidarity offered to him, "I don't think that's how it works," he admitted.

"It's how it works for us," said Violet, shutting his own eyes. He smiled ever so slightly, "trust me."

"I do."

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 **Thank you all for reading! Bye!**


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